A Joker's Fun
by A.I.W
Summary: A child is very impressible and when no one controls the impressions, hell breaks loose. Comic book villains aren't good moral teachers and the world is about to learn that. Harry Potter / Batman, slight AU, language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter (duh) or Batman.

**Warnings**: Language, Violence

I've set the whole story ten years later, meaning that Harry was borne in 1990 etc..

This is the introduction to my story, so don't expect the whole story to be explained in it. If Harry may seem a bit ooc you can tell me, but keep in mind that he is only 7, going to be 8, here at first. The Dursleys turned (in my opinion, it was said in the first book that there was a time he got an allowance, so I've got this theory going) only really nasty (they weren't saints before, but not as bad as later depicted) after Harry's first accidental magic.

And in this story, nothing has happened so far (in front of the Dursleys or to their notice mind you), not even his hair growing back insanely fast. So Harry has some kind of self worth, which he totally seemed to lack in the books, in my story.

I hope that explains everything so far.

###

Harry Potter didn't have a good life and he knew this already before going to school. In a good family, children should be cherished by their parents, loved and well cared for.

He didn't have parents to cherish his existence, he wasn't loved where he lived and well cared for was something else than what he was experiencing at home.

That said, it wasn't that he was physically beaten or anything, but neglecting and harsh words could cut more deeply than a knife. For Harry Potter's whole being was loathed in Privet Drive No 4.

There was a time when he tried to figure out what made his aunt and uncle despise him. He watched how they cuddled and pampered Dudley, who often behaved badly, so he tried to copy Dudley's behaviour. That was the one time he got slapped by aunt Petunia. He tried being nice and friendly, that didn't made them any nicer either.

So, little Harry came one night in his small and dark cupboard under the stairs to the conclusion, that he wasn't the source of his relatives hate.

While an older and more experienced person would probably point out that humans don't need a rational reason to hate someone, Harry didn't have the questionable pleasure of seeing these things in real life.

Harry decided then and there that he would find the reason and see what could be done about it, because he really wished to have a loving family or at least a neutral one.

His world view may have been a little off, for it was composed of what the caretakers in kindergarten taught, Mrs Figgs mumbled gibberish, his relative's barking and demanding and late night TV shows and early morning cartoons that could be heard in his cupboard.

Right and wrong didn't really make any sense to him, no one every really bothered to explain the fundamentals of morality to him. He didn't understand that hurting someone was wrong, the Dursleys tolerated Dudley hurting him and in those cartoons they hit each other all the time and blew each other up and lets not get started on those late night programs. While he did understand that cartoons weren't real, the message seemed clear enough to him. One of the only things that all parties that taught Harry the rules of life, if they could be called that, agreed upon was that you don't cross the street if the traffic light was red!

Not a very healthy or normal mindset, mind you, but a great ground for misled and or insane worldviews, what the Wizarding World and the Dursleys would be learning in the near future.

000

Years after little Harry's resolution to find the root for the Dursley's behaviour and therefore his miserable life, Harry's life was, to put it bluntly, even more miserable. He went to school with Dudley, who was now about a head taller than Harry and had found just what everyone in this world needed: People with the same definition of 'fun' as him.

Sadly, this was a very miserable day for Harry and most of the children that went to this particular elementary school.

One day, this day to be precisely, Harry, tired after a whole day of 'Harry Hunting', hungry, because he didn't have any lunch, frustrated by the unfairness of the world in general and very, very alone was on his way home from school.

He missed the bus while hiding for Dudley's gang and now had to walk all the way home, which would probably take him ( a very skinny and small child, eighth years of age) about two whole hours. His relative weren't about to be worried about his whereabouts or anything, but they would be very angry about all the chores that would surely be neglected in Harry's absence.

While Harry walked along a street with all kind of different shops he thought bitterly:

'_Can this day get any worse? I hate this.'_

You really shouldn't tempt Fate's hand like that, because in most cases, the answer is fast, annoying and totally not what you would like.

This time was no different and Harry got his answer in form of a loud rolling thunder and the promise of only too soon following rain.

'_Shit'_

In search for a potential place to wait the rain out, Harry let his eyes wander over the nearby shops. Most of them were shops for clothes, pretty expensive clothes that would probably throw him out before he even got over the threshold. Dudley's old hand me downs made it pretty obvious that he didn't really belong in such a shop. The restaurant and cafes were also quickly disregarded; he didn't have any money on him.

The next shop was a comic shop and while Harry wasn't all that interested in those, translated, didn't ever own and or read one before. It seemed to be a save bet for a young boy to hang out in a comic shop for quite some time (hopefully until the rain that just started to fall ended).

And so Harry quickly went into the shop before he would very likely catch a cold in the rain. He just lacked the body mass and the right clothes to keep him warm in such an uncomfortable weather.

A bell signalled his entrance to the women behind the register, who looked only for a few seconds up from her magazine to study him and then went right back to reading. There were only a handful of other customers in the shop, mostly teenagers, except for one middle aged men at the very end of the shop.

Harry just went to one shelf and blindly picked up a comic heft. He looked down 'Batman', and then looked around. The other customers were all reading something or another, flipping through pages or looking among all those shelves.

'_Why not, I still have some time to kill'_

Thus he began to read the comic.

At first Harry really couldn't see what people would like about these comics. He didn't understand what was going on or who was who. Maybe it wasn't too intelligent to just start in the middle of things without knowing what was going on, but Harry didn't really know that most comics were an ongoing series.

The middle aged man must have seen his frustrated expression, for he walked unnoticed up to Harry and looked over the young boys shoulder. After a moment of consideration he tipped the boy on the shoulder to get his attention.

Started, Harry whirled around where he stood, reflexes tuned from many sessions of 'Harry Hunting' and other such games, coming to full use as he nearly tripped over his own feet and into the shelf behind him.

The man quickly grabbed Harry's arm to prevent him from falling, smiling and seemingly finding the whole situation more amusing then anything else.

"Careful there, you don't want to make a mess of things here, Monica", here he shoot a meaningful look in direction of the women behind the counter, still engrossed in her magazine, "may be lenient when it comes to reading here, but mercy on the poor guys soul who pisses her of. She can be such a harpy."

Harry looked down at the hand that still held his arm and than shoot an accusing glare at the man attached to said appendage. Sadly his glare was somewhat less intimidating because his glassed had slipped to the very tip of his nose and he couldn't really see said man. Seeing Harry's attempted glare, the man just chuckled and let go of the arm.

"Sorry there, I didn't want to scare you."

Pushing his glasses back to their rightful place, Harry looked up to the man. He seemed honest enough in his apology, so he gave him a short nod, indicating his acceptance of the apology.

Harry may not be the bravest boy in existence, nor a very out going and more on the shy side, but he didn't want all people to, sometimes even literary, walk all over him.

He studied the man for a moment, his first impression about his age seemed about right. The man seemed to be in his late thirties and was pleasantly rounded. Not fat or anything, but comfortable with his life and body. His brown hair was starting to thin on his head and he had many winkles around his eyes, showing that this man seemed to enjoy laughing. His clothes consisted of a normal pair of jeans and a checked shirt. All in all, this man seemed nice enough.

"So, my young friend, I couldn't help but notice that you seemed bothered about something and that while such a great issue of Batman. Good taste by the way. What bothered you?"

Harry couldn't help but blush a little bit. Obviously this man enjoyed comics a great deal and wanted to talk with someone with equal enthusiasm. It wasn't that he knew if this were a good issue or anything, he just grabbed the first that was there for Christ's sake! He looked down at the object that was still in his hand and back up to the man and grinned apologetic.

He seemed to understand what the youth wasn't willing to outright say, nodded seemingly to himself once and addressed the boy again.

"You have no clue about Batman, do you?"

A tentative nod was his answer.

"Or comics in general?"

A second nod followed the first one.

Harry watched as the man in front of him tapped his index finger against his chin, as if in deep thought. Nodded against to himself as if he would agree with his own thought process and turned his attention back to Harry.

"Then I can only do one thing."

Harry threw a nervous glance out of a nearby window. It was still pouring.

"I will have to introduce you to the wonderful world of comics and graphic novels!" said the man with so much enthusiasm, that Harry had to blink to see if he wasn't hallucinating. No one ever really wanted to spend their time with him and given the chance were mostly avoiding him. His peers were not only afraid of Dudley, but also thought he was either boring or strange and adults just weren't interested in him. Well, besides that really strange man that bowed to him once, but he probably didn't count.

He took Harry by the hand and half dragged him, still with the issue of 'Batman' in hand to the cashier, greeted Monica happily and paid for the issue and a few other books and issues in his shopping basket. Harry stared just numbly at the whole scene and stayed quite.

After paying and getting the bag with his purchase he looked down at Harry and said, still grinning, that it would be easier to talk over a nice cup of tea and some cake. Harry nodded, still a little bit freaked out by the weirdness of the whole situation, but far to hungry to decline some cake or food in general, really.

And while some may think that it is strange for a child to follow a stranger he or she just met, bear in mind that the Dursley's didn't exactly gave Harry the talk about not going with strangers. Their intentions for doing so may be for everyone's guess, but it seems that the reason may be related to the reason why they didn't teach him how to swim.

The pair went out of the shop and rushed as fast as they could into the nearest café to escape the rain. Here they said down at a nice table in a corner of the room after taking of their jackets and the still nameless man ordered for both of them a pot of tea and an assortment of small cakes and cookies.

For everyone just passing by they looked like a father who took his son after a day of work and school respectively shopping and were now enjoying the rest of the day.

Harry stared curiously around the café, he may have seen such places from the outside, but the Dursleys never really took him anyway if they could help it and he enjoyed his chance to eat somewhere else while he could.

The man, now introduced as Michael Winchester began to rummage through his shopping bag while they waited for the waitress to bring them their orders.

"What is your name my fine friend?"

A little bit startled, Harry's gaze wandered back to Michael (_not Mr Winchester that always makes me feel uncomfortable and old_). He still was a bit unsure about Michael's open and happy personality and never had someone before called him his or her friend, not even in good fun or anything.

"My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

And they were back again to the comfortable silence from before, as if they had known each other for years and not just a few minutes. They order arrived and Harry, after some hesitance in the beginning, wondering if he really was allowed to eat these things, that Michael didn't want him to think about, dug in.

On a normal day it would have tasted good, for Harry, who felt that he was starving, it was heaven. While he still minded some of the most basic table manners, he was faster through the first two small pieces of cake and one cookie than most people could say 'Dug in'.

Michael seemed to find the whole thing amusing and moved for Harry to take himself more if he wanted and Harry was just to happy to oblige, but with more restraint this time, now, that the first hunger was sated.

The man opposite of him, who seemed content to still munch on his first piece of cake, let his eyes wander over the boy. He may not be a social worker, psychologist or a doctor, but he had a good mind on his shoulders and could add two and two together.

The boy, Harry, seemed to have a hard time in life. Maybe his parents didn't earn enough or didn't have a job, he wasn't sure about that one, but the far too large clothes, the taped glasses, the mangled backpack and the more than slightly malnourished form seemed to speak for themselves. He really hoped that there wasn't any violence involved.

Well, Michael liked children, he would've liked to some own children, but sadly, he and his ex-wife never really could work that one (or many other things for the matter) out, probably the reason why she was his ex-wife now. And why not enjoy doing a good deed?

He took the comic that the lad had in hand when he met him and gave it to him over the table. At first he just stared at him, than at the comic and finally reached hesitantly for the issue, a small and shy smile on his lips.

"Thank you Mr…ah Michael, but you really shouldn't have to, I mean, you don't have to spend your money for me…"

"Rubbish Harry, I'm a grown man and if I want to buy something to give it to someone, I very well should. Who would I be if I ignored my inner voice on that account? It really is no problem; those few pounds won't kill me."

Harry's face felt as his face was on fire and he was sure it was the colour of a ripe tomato. He had never really gotten a real and honest present before and now a virtual stranger had given him something!

He looked again up to the Michael's face, who was, again, smiling at him. Also something new, someone who was really smiling at him, not in his direction, but him. It made a warm feeling inside his belly growing and he felt for the first time in a very long while truly happy. In a small voice he said:

"Thank you."

Michael, probably sensing Harry's embarrassment just smiled wider and changed the topic, back to what he originally in mind.

"And now, I wanted to tell you a little bit more about the 'Batman' series. It is one of my favourites by the way. I think I started reading it in your age, too. Well, as most comics, it is about a superhero, who is protecting his city, sometimes even the world, against super villains. He fights crimes dressed up in a bat like costume so no one will know his real identity. His true name is Bruce Wayne, a billionaire, whose parents were murdered right in front of him when he was only a child."

And on and on it went. Michael talked about the other characters, the villains, some plots that Batman had successfully thwarted connections to other comics from DC and the Animation Series that was Saturday and Sunday mornings on TV, the old Batman Series with real life actors and then some more.

Harry hung to his every word, it was fascinating and Michael talked with so much passion that Harry could see some pictures right in front of his mind's eye. And that someone bothered to actually answer some of his question was such a nice change, too.

For the first time in a long while, Harry felt like maybe, the world was going to be brighter in the future and there was a place just for him in it somewhere.

Michael's favourite topic seemed to be the villains; he always came back to them, describing their characters, their pasts, their past schemes and their connection to Batman. He showed Harry pictures of all of them in one of his bought books and explained what some authors or artist had done over the time that the series existed.

If he was honest with himself, some parts of what Michael told him went right over Harry's head, but he couldn't bring himself to stop Michael. But what Harry understood were that most people in the series seemed to have very tragic pasts or seemingly none at all if you counted this Joker guy and all coped with it in a different way. He could feel some kind of kinship with those characters and it felt nice, even if they were just picture on paper.

Sometime in the middle of a very animated explanation of some of the more interesting gadgets that everyone and their third cousin seemed to own in Gotham, the waitress came back, took the plates with the long forgotten last crumbles of the cake and the now empty teacups and asked if they could bring anything else.

After a few short questions if Harry wanted anything and then what he would like on his sandwich, Michael ordered two sandwich with cold cuts, a basket with French fries and two sodas for both of them.

And while it had stopped raining quite sometime ago, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He would be in trouble with the Dursleys anyway, so he would damn well enjoy a good time while he had the chance. Dinner seemed like a good idea to him, the Dursleys probably would just send him straight to his cupboard and he had no intention of going, again mind you, hungry to bed if he had a way around it.

It wasn't that he was listening to Michael just for the present and food, he really liked the man, and these things were just an added bonus.

After a hearty lunch and even more talking on Michael's part (Harry was now wondering if Michael was related to Mrs No 7, who could talk a donkey to dead if she wanted, but sadly wasn't as interesting as Michael to Harry. Aunt Petunia on the other hand seemed to hang on her every word about the love life of Mrs No 16 and the divorce in No 8 when she was over to tea. Some people just seemed to find those things very interesting for some reason…) it seemed to occur to Michael that his young companion may be expected by someone.

Sheepishly he apologized for getting so carried away and wasting Harry's whole afternoon and probably worrying his family. Harry quickly cut him of and told him that he really enjoyed this afternoon and lied about his family not expecting him anyway before dawn, which was still about half an hour away.

He would never make it before nightfall to be home, still about an hour and a half away by foot, but Michael didn't need to know that. No need to worry him.

Michael paid the waitress and both of them stepped out of the café and into the last rays of the afternoon sun. The clouds were gone by now and the air was as fresh as it could only be after a good bit of rain.

Michael practically demanded to drive Harry home and Harry hadn't had it in him to refuse him. They went to Michael's car, an old green Ford and Harry told Michael where he lived.

The ride was spend in comfortable silence. Harry put his issue of 'Batman', which he now viewed in a different light, into one of his school books, hiding it from Dudley's greedy fingers and aunt Petunia's disapproval. He didn't want it taken from him for some stupid reason.

After about fifteen minutes Michael drove into Privet Drive. Before Harry got out of the car, he said:

"Maybe we could meet again at one time or another Harry, I'm nearly everyday of the week except for the weekend in the shop at around the same time. I work two streets away from it and it has become some kind of habit to visit it after work. I would be happy to see you again in the future and then you can tell me what you think about it", here he gestured to Harry's backpack where the 'Batman' issue had been stored.

Harry was only too happy to nod. It would be nice seeing Michael again and it was well worth the way he had to go or his relative's ire he would have to endure.

And with a last wave, Michael drove off, actually aware that no child could have gotten here before dawn by foot or that this neighbourhood didn't seem to be the kind where people lived who lacked a job or money. But he kept quite, he would wait and see, first impressions could be deceiving and he didn't plan to let this first impression of the boy become the last one.

Maybe he finally reached the oh so feared midlife crisis or something, but he like spending time taking with Harry, even if he did most of the talking and the boy most of the listening.

It was a long time ago since he found someone new who he could tell about his comic passion. Most of the people he knew that would listen to him knew this stuff already and the other people found it stupid that a grown man spend his time reading children's picture books.

Hmpf, ignorance knows no bounds.

And maybe he could pretend for a few hours that he had a family, someone who would be happy if he came home from a long day of work and ask him how his day had been. Since the divorce six years ago, he had lived alone in his flat. From time to time he may go out on a date, but nothing had come out of those. He had long ago giving up the dream to be a father and he was aware that Harry probably had one already, but maybe he needed a favourite uncle? Nothing to do but wait and see.

At the same time Michael turned around the corner into the next street, Harry reached the door of Privet Drive No 4. Both had different thought running through their heads, but still ended on the same one:

'_I hope I see him again in the future.'_

###

I know, I know, nothing really happened here, nor magic, no drama, no violence etc., but I had to explain the characters at first a little bit.

I have a huge respect for people who make a HP/Batman x-over that actually works (few as there are), but I don't plan to make this a real x-over. Harry will embrace some character traits from some of the Batman characters and add the odd idea here and there.

I don't want too much foreshadowing here, so I will end it end here with the AN.

Please feel free to tell me what you thought about this, any idea or mistakes I've made or just your opinion in general.

Bye A.I.W.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter (duh) or Batman.

**Warnings**: Language, Violence

And here we go again: The next chapter to 'A Joker's Fun'. AN at the end of the chapter.

_Sometimes, being a hero is not enough._

###

The inevitable meeting with the Dursleys had been just what Harry expected it to be; 'Go into the cupboard boy', 'Unthankful brat', 'No dinner', 'Useless' etc.. It always hurt Harry to hear such things, even if he told himself it didn't. He may be able to ignore the words, but their cold glares sometimes haunted him until deep into the night.

They didn't check Harry's back, as Harry expected them not to and so didn't find his treasure. And while Dudley was upstairs in his room and his aunt and uncle in the living-room, watching TV, Harry took an old grey shirt from under his cot and placed it right in front of the small slits in the door, securing it with some duct tape. He then pot another piece of cloth in front of the slit under the door, so when he turned on the single, naked light bulb, no one would notice it from the outside.

He took out the comic and began reading it; it was called 'Mad Love'. After he finished reading, Harry really didn't know what to feel. The whole concept of being rewarded for good behaviour didn't seem to grasp here.

The Joker, who was everything you shouldn't be (even he could understand that easily), got what he, Harry, wished for more than anything else: Love, someone who loved him despite his obvious flaws and quirks and who would do anything for him.

Harry was jealous of the Joker, but then he thought about today and the anger and hurt he felt lessened until they were only a light throbbing. His life was looking up and he really shouldn't be upset about some story.

He yawned and for the first time noticed how tired he really was. His eyes hurt from reading in the weak light and his body complained about some of his new bruises that he had received today by Dudley and his gang. But for the first time in a long while, it didn't complain about an empty or only barely filled stomach.

After getting rid of both clothes that were in front of the cupboard door, hiding his comic book under the hard mattress of his cot and switching of the light, he laid down on his cot. Harry was asleep before he could really think about anything else.

000

The next day was a Friday and Harry went to school without having done any of his assigned homework. But he really couldn't care less. He didn't like his teacher anyway, the man was often unfair and mean to all children and looked stupid with his wig.

As he went on and on about the importance of homework and the bad work ethic of today's youth, Harry blended him out. He was trying to decide if he should go to the shop again. He didn't want to seem too eager or annoying and maybe Michael wouldn't even be there at all. Aunt Petunia didn't give him any lunch or lunch money for today as punishment for his late arrival yesterday and the not done chores and he wasn't to keen of walking to hours for nothing, but an empty stomach and more trouble at home.

Harry was worried that Michael had already forgotten him and their meeting yesterday. He probably thought that Harry was stupid and was just too polite to send him away yesterday. Maybe…

When the lunch break came around, Harry was a nervous wreck and still didn't know what to do when the school would finally end. He doubted himself, then Michael, than chastised himself for insulted the nice man's intentions and words, even if it was only in his head, then worried about the reactions of his relative and then start the same circle again.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the absence of Dudley's gang, that were momentary preoccupied with another boy, nor did he notice his grumbling stomach.

After the last two periods and the realising sound of the final bell, Harry had come to a decision. If he didn't go today, he would think about the possibility of Michael waiting for him all weekend and so he turned towards the direction of the shop, ignoring the still waiting school bus.

Half an hour later, Harry reached the entrance of the shop, took a deep breath and entered it. Monica was at the same place as last time, reading another magazine and only shortly looking up after she heard the doorbell before turning back to her reading.

He let his eyes wander over the other customers and his heart fell as he noticed the absence of Michael. He went to the same shelf as yesterday, he didn't really want to block the door all day and maybe, just maybe Michael had to work a little bit longer and that was the reason why he wasn't here now. Harry was earlier today than yesterday, so maybe he just had to wait a few more minutes.

He turned towards the shelf and began to brows through the issues there, now with far more knowledge about the whole story than yesterday and with far more interest. Another issue caught his eye and he began to read. At first he just wanted to distract himself from the nervous anticipation he felt, but only five pages later, he was engrossed into the story.

It was another story with the Joker and Harley Quinn, 'The laughing fish' and it was quite funny. More than once had Harry to remember himself to not laugh aloud as to not attract any unwanted attention to himself.

This was the picture that greeted Michael Winchester when he entered the shop. It took him only one second to absorb the picture in front of him, then another one for the gleeful smile to form on his face. He walked slowly up to Harry, who still hadn't noticed his presence, until he stood right behind him.

Than he tipped him on the shoulder, just like yesterday, but this time, he was more than ready for Harry's reaction. He caught Harry before the boy would fall into the shelf and then laughed at the irritated glare he received.

As Harry turned around to see the culprit of the whole situation and to tell him or her that he hated it to be startled, he caught sight of Michael and an involuntary smile made itself visible on his face, which rendered his annoyed glare pretty useless.

"So we meet again young Padawan."

Harry just stared at Michael, not understanding what that statement meant besides the obvious. Michael, seeing the no comprehension just sighed and said:

"We really have to get you up to standard here. Padawan is a term for pupil, taken from 'Star Wars'."

Suddenly Harry understood the statement and grinned. If Michael called him a student, he was going to teach him something, which meant he didn't intend to forget Harry anytime soon. A warm and fuzzy feeling made itself known in Harry's stomach.

000

It was an unlikely bond that both of them shared. They would talk about a topic for hours a Harry started to say more in those conversations. Michael would show Harry a comic, a book or a movie and then would begin to talk about it with Harry listening to the man. Then Harry would read it or they would watch it in Michael's flat, which was only a fifteen minute walk away from Harry's school and add his own thought to Michael's.

They never really talked about they past or their life, just that Michael worked in some kind of firm as an adviser and that he lived alone since his wife left him. Harry told him that he lived with his aunt and uncle, because of a car accident in which his parents died. Michael was very sympatric and told Harry that his own parent died the same way a few years back. Since this talk they stayed on more happy topics.

Harry talked with the Dursley's and told them, that he was part of a group for a school project and had to stay longer in school. They never showed any interest in what kind of group this was or why Harry sometimes only came back when it was already dark outside. Most of his chores he had to do on the weekends, but Harry could hardly care less about that.

He never mentioned Michael, nor did he mention the Dursleys to Michael. He didn't want to lie to his friend, the Dursleys he had no problems with, but not Michael.

They fell into an easy rhythm, meeting three or four time a week in the comic shop, at Michaels flat or somewhere else and having a good time together. Michael sometimes helped Harry with his schoolwork and Harry helped Michael to organize his different collections.

Then, nearly two month after their first meeting, Michael asked Harry if he had time on one of the following weekends and to Harry's great delight he could make the next weekend free.

On the next Saturday morning, Harry and Michael met again to celebrate their friendship, even if it was only for two month. Michael was the honest opinion that he just had to celebrate this day with Harry in some way and Harry was far to touched to disagree

If Harry was honest with himself, he thought Michael just needed a reason for celebrating something without Harry feeling bad for accepting said man's kindness.

The Dursleys believed Harry to spend the weekend with Mrs Figg while they visited Vernon's sister Marge. Mrs Figg had no idea and Harry wasn't about to enlighten her. He planned to spend the weekend at Michaels place and wasn't about to blow this chance.

Michael took him to the circus, bought him cotton candy and popcorn and was just the nicest person Harry could imagine. They laughed at the antics of the clowns, fevered with the acrobats and their risky stunts and were amazed by the magic tricks of the magician.

After that, they went to a Restaurant near the Thames and had a hearty lunch, while planning for the rest of the day. Next they went to the Zoo and Harry was amazed by all the different kind of animals that could be seen there. The Dursleys never took him to a zoo before, but even if they had, it probably would never have been as funny as with Michael.

He commented just about everything they saw, made funny voices while saying things that he thought the animals were thinking and all in all behaved like someone half his age or younger. When Harry tried to imagine uncle Vernon doing these kinds of things, he had to be steadied by Michael or he had fallen over because he was laughing so hard. Michael just shrugged and laughed with him.

They had some ice-cream, but didn't make it into the reptilian house before the zoo closed. To end the day on a high note, they went to a fast food restaurant for dinner and when they left it with their full bellies, Michael turned to Harry, telling him he had one more surprise for the boy.

"Michael, I really appreciate what you do for me, but I can't accept more from you. You are far too nice to me and the day was perfect, you don't need to give me anything."

"Ah, don't you worry Harry; I live all alone and earn too much money to just spend it all for myself. If I want to spend it for you than I will very well do and nothing you can do will stop me. I had at least as much fun as you did today and all thanks to you. You have no idea how boring it can be to go somewhere alone. I always wished to have a son, but sadly it wasn't to be, but if I had one, I like to imagine he would be just like you. So please do an old man this favour and let him have his fantasy."

While talking they had started to walk back to they car, which was still a good walk away, but as Harry heard those words he suddenly stopped and looked at the man right next to him with wide eyes.

Here was someone who wanted Harry to be a part of his family. Harry had dreamed about a long lost relative or someone else coming and taking him away from the Dursleys, because he was wanted by them.

But he had long ago given up on those hopes, the Dursley's words of him being a burden subconsciously altering his own view of himself, making him slowly but surly feel bad and unwanted by everyone, even dream persons.

And here was Michael, not adopting him or taking him away from the Dursleys, but wanting him, liking him and maybe, sometime in the future, loving him. Harry couldn't remember a time where he felt this happy and he did the only thing he could think of to express this happiness; he hugged Michael, who had stopped when Harry stopped walking, with all his strength.

Michael looked down at the unruly mob of black hair and hugged the child back. His growing suspicions about Harry's home life only strengthen his hold. He hoped dearly that he was seeing things that weren't there. He would watch Harry a little bit more and maybe even ask him in the future before he did anything rash. For now he would just enjoy the moment.

But like everything, even this moment had to end and all too soon both reluctantly ended the hug and started again to walk. Michael loosened his backpack and held it up for Harry to see.

"I've got the present here, do you want it now or do you want to wait until we reach the car and have more peace?"

And though Harry really wanted to know what this present was, he declined to open it right away. He wanted to enjoy the moment and not be rushed by all those people on the sidewalk bumping into them.

Michael then gestured Harry to follow him and turned into a side street, claiming to know a shortcut. Harry simply followed curiosity slowly eating away at him and only too happy to get faster to the car.

The street was narrower and not as well lit as the one they had just left, but it was also less crowded and Harry was thankful for that. They walked in silence for about five minutes, the streets were getting darker and dirtier with every step they took and Harry began to get nervous. The people they saw weren't comforting either.

Just as Harry wanted to voice his concern and discomfort to men came up to them. The first was very tall, but not skinny. He had black hair that stood up in spikes and many silver loops and studs in his face and ears. His clothes were ripped at some parts and seemed in dire need of water and soap.

The second one was shorter than the first one, but what he didn't have in height he made more than up for in width and while he didn't seem to wear a whole jeweller's shop's good in his face, he wasn't more pleasant than his companion. It looked like he wanted to keep a reminder of every meal he had on his clothes in form of stains and it didn't look like he started the hobby just last week.

Both of them blocked they path and as Harry looked around for another way around those two, he noticed that there weren't any other people in sight.

Harry swallowed hard. He could very well imagine some boys from Dudley's gang to look like those two in a few years and that didn't comfort him in the slightest.

Michael's thoughts seemed to go in similar directions, for the muscles in his neck and shoulders began to tense and his gaze wandered from one man to the other and then over their surroundings.

"Hello there, we just want to ask you something, so no need to get all worried there." said the taller one with a smile on his face that didn't help the credibility of his words.

"And what would that be?" was Michael's reply. No trace of a smile in his words, only wariness and a hint of determination.

"If you want to know so badly, my friend and I here are in need of some money and it would be really nice if you could help us out there."

As the taller one spoke, was Michael using the time to slowly inch in front of Harry, while never looking away from those two. The smaller one seemed to find this hilarious for some reason for he suddenly started laughing.

"You don't have to get all protective, just give us your backpack and everything else that his worth something and you can be on your merry way again."

There trace of humour was from his voice and the man's hand was slowly reaching into the pocket of his jacket.

This seemed to be enough for Michael to spin around while screaming for Harry to run and hide. Harry didn't have to be told twice and he started to run into the next street, which sadly proved to be a bad decision, it was a dead end.

The fat one, who despite his weight was pretty fast caught him and gripped his right arm into a vice like grip. He held Harry until his partner came to them with Michael at gun point, he than continued by throwing Harry with far more force than necessary against the wall of the dead end. The crack of Harry's wrist was audible to the silence of the back alley and Harry had to stifle a small cry as tears began to fall, not only because of the pain, but also out of fear.

Michael began to protest against their captors and their violent treatment of a small child, but while one just continued to hold the weapon and the started to laugh again, his words fell on deaf ears. He began to go in Harry's direction when the tall one suddenly ordered him to stop.

"I want to check up on him, I don't want to fight, you have one, please, just leave us alone!" pleaded Michael with the men while grabbing his backpack, planning to give it to them.

But he didn't get to hand the backpack over, for the man with the gun seemed to perceive this action as a thread and pulled the trigger.

A loud shoot echoed in the streets, drowning every other noise. A loud thud followed, than only a gurgling sound and the sound of liquid hitting the ground.

Harry stared with wide eyes as blood flowed out of Michael's neck, drenching the ground and painting it red. One of his hands pressed onto his neck, as if trying to stop the bleeding, but it was like stopping a river with just one hand, useless.

The noises that Michael made were horrible, a gurgling wet coughing and then a loud rattle before his boy stilled. All three people present stared at the now dead body.

"Well, I guess he isn't going to stand up anymore."

In that second, something in Harry broke. He felt all the anger of being treated poorly and unfair, of being pushed around, yelled at and hurt, the bottled up hurt of being shunned and ignored and his fear of being alone and hated. All those feelings, dark memories and the whole situation were too much for Harry. He wasn't terrified anymore of the men in front of him, he was livid and someone would have to pay.

He ignored the pain in his hand, used it only to fuel the growing darkness of his emotions. The sadness he felt by the loss of Michael, who only wanted to make him happy and protect him, was drowned in those emotions and twisted into something unrecognizably ugly. The want, no need for revenge was the only conscious thought on Harry's mind at this moment and he relished in it, embraced it.

As if to answer his call for revenge and retribution, Harry felt something warm and tingling in his arms, legs, chest, everywhere in his body. And without thinking he knew he had the power to carry his plans out. There was no fear, pain or doubt anymore, just power and thirst revenge and it felt glorious.

All this happened in the span of maybe three seconds and the aggressors in front of Harry didn't seem to have noticed any change in him. They laughed at still form of Michael, blood still spilling of the wound in his neck, but far slower than just a minute before. They clapped each other on the back as if they had just won a game of football or something equally mundane. There was no remorse for the life they had just ended in they posture, for all the grief and pain they had just caused with simply pulling the trigger.

Harry took two steps away from the wall, which just a few minutes ago served as a prison, then as a crutch. His hair fell into his face, concealing his expression, while he looked down onto the out bleeding corpse of his first and best friend, maybe even father in a future that would now never take place. His saviour and protector, squashed like an ugly bug by his feet, his blood still glittering on Harry's small form, running down his face.

The fat one nudged his partner in the side and pointed toward Harry, still grinning like a loon, his form shaking from occasional fits of giggling.

"Hey Sam, look, the kid wants to play, too."

Sam, obviously the leader of the duo, pushed his partner away from himself as he started to lean on him for support from another fit of laughter. The fat one seemed to find this even more hilarious, even as he landed on his ass and into the still growing puddle of fresh blood on the ground. The other one shook his head in disgust now.

"You had too much Billy, how much of this stuff did you take?"

As answer Billy just laughed some more and shrugged with his shoulder, seemingly content to sit on the wet ground and staying there. The last seconds seemed to have sobered Sam somewhat from whatever trip it was that he was on. He looked down at the cooling corpse and then in the direction where Harry stood. A small sigh escaped his lips and the next words were said with something akin to regret.

"Sorry there kid, but I ain't going back to prison for this shit. Maybe you'll see you Daddy on the other side. Probably better than letting you here anyway. Should have made no trouble, his fault, not mine. Better for us all..."

He seemed to try to convince himself more than Harry as he lifted the gun and pointed it in Harry's direction. The boy showed no sigh that he had heard anything the man had said or anything at all for the matter.

'_Probably in shock, he won't even notice anything wrong or pain. A fast pang and everything is over'_

These were Sam's thoughts as he pulled the trigger.

***

Michael Henry Winchester, Samuel 'Sam' Jason Harper and William 'Billy' Jackson died in the night of the 26th September, 1998. All three died in a back alley in London and all three and now living blood family.

Michael's parents were dead since a car accident that killed them five years ago; he was an only child and never had any children. He was shoot in the neck and died of severe blood lost only a few minutes later.

Sam never knew his father and his mother died when he was only 15. The cause was an overdose of heroin. His older brother was killed only three month later in some kind of deal that had gone wrong. He didn't have any children, at least that he knew of. He was killed by a shoot in the head just like his brother was all these years ago, it looked like suicide.

Billy never met either his father or his mother; he grew up in different foster families, but never stayed for too long. If he has any siblings, he doesn't know about them. He was killed by two bullets to the chest. One hit his left lung, the other shattered his collarbone; he drowned in his own blood. It looked like his partner shot him after killing another man.

The police found the corpses in the early morning of the 27th September. They investigated and reached the conclusion that this was a robbery gone wrong. Samuel Jason Harper and William Jackson were known criminals and the blood test showed that both were full with drugs before they died. Samuel Harper seemed to have gone mad after shooting Michael Henry Winchester and killed his partner and then himself.

They never found any trace of another person in the alley that night and the case was close only two days after the incident.

###

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; it was/is very hard for me to write Harry changing from what he was in canon at this time to what I want him to be like without it being totally ridicules. Far more actions then in the last chapter and a huge development in the character department.

I feel sorry for Michael, but he had to go for Harry to grow and change.

If you have problems with Harry's sometimes very screwed sense of logic, bear in mind that he is just a child and wasn't raised properly. What seems stupid to us can be absolutely understandable for him.

Next chapter will have more dialogue in it and maybe some more action.

I would be very happy to get some kind of response for this chapter/story or my idea in general from you. Please review

Until the next time, bye!

A.I.W.


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